Day 1 Manhattan
by victoriacole
Summary: "I like to dance all night, summons the day. But that's how I play, Yeah, that's how I play. I said who are you? Don't matter who you are. So we danced all night, And danced all day."


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Day 1 - **Manhattan**

"I like to dance all night,  
Summons the day.  
But that's how I play,  
Yeah, that's how I play.  
I said who are you?  
Don't matter who you are.  
So we danced all night,  
And danced all day."

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The room was smoky. You could barely see through the clouds. People sat around old, rickety tables on their old, rickety chairs and smoked ciggarettes and drank cold beer. The sound of some old dancing music floated around the old bar. Everything there seemed old. Everything was discoloured, like an old black and white movie. Except there was colour. The ladies in their créme coloured dresses with the corsets and lace, and the gents were in their scratchy grey suits with various hats.

One gent was alone at his table, just barely sipping his beer and chain-smoking. His grey eyes scanned the bar, looking around the grey and white atmosphere. It was almost as if the colour was draining out of the world, and this little room was no exception. He took the last puff of his cigarette and took out another. He lit it up and took a long, long puff. He sighed as he exhaled, watching the smoke rise to the lights and mingle with all of the other smoke.

Her laughter was rising, and met with his smoke. The smoke and laughter danced around, doing pirouettes and tangos and other dances. She sipped her beer as the bloke next to her told another joke. The same joke he told, four times now. Sure, at first it was funny to her and tickled her funnybone. But the second time he said it, she chuckled. The third time she was bored, and faked her laugh. The fourth time it was really, and I mean really faked. She sighed, and claimed she was going to get another beer. She stood up, rolled her eyes, and walked to the bar.

When he saw the pretty girl stand, he stood too. He put his cigarette out, and walked to the bar.

"Whatever this pretty lady's having, I'll pay," he withdrew his wallet. She glanced over and met his eyes. She smiled and said to the bartender,

"The most expensive thing on your list, please."

The man next to her turned and looked at her and emitted a laugh, "You have to get your money's worth?"

"Of course," she took the drink that the bartender made her and took a sip, "Mmmm. Thank you."

"No problem," he laughed, "But where are my manners? My name is Draco."

"Hermione," she said, taking another sip, "My God, Draco. This drink is far better than the cheap beer my sorry excuse for a date was buying me."

Draco's heart fell into his stomach. He was hoping to get lucky with this girl. Now, Draco Malfoy wasn't the type to come in a bar and pick up a random stranger, sleep with her, and then throw her out. But there was something about this Hermione. She seemed like a real winner. She made him laugh within the first minute of meeting, and that was unlikely for a girl to do that. His laughs were usually faked and forced, to make the lady feel accomplished. But this one didn't seem to need that. She seemed to have her head in place, and she seemed confident enough.

"Your date, hey?" Draco sat on one of the stools by the bar, "Let me guess, handsom, charming, rich, and he makes you laugh so hard your stomach hurts."

Hermione choked on her drink, "Not even! He's handsome, sure, and rich. My father's choice. But his charm is basically talking about how good I'd look with him on my arm, and his humor consists of the same joke, over and over. Why, I came over here to escape him! My daddy won't like that, but he can keep him company."

Draco laughed again. This girl was definitely something. He didn't know what, but she was something.

"I say, just your luck! I'm here. You know how good you'd look with me by your side!" Draco teased her.

Her eyes narrowed, "Care to dance, Draco? I mean, what else can we do? I don't want to go back with ... er. What's his name? I think it's Ronald. Who names their child Ronald? Anyway. I don't want to go back with Ronald, and you seem good on your feet."

Draco nodded, taking her glass from her hand, and took her to the dance floor. Their feet moved in perfect unison. The music was fast, so he twirled her, and they stomped and spun and laughed for hours. The bar cleared of most of the drunken idiots, but Draco and Hermione continued to dance.

Ronald Weasley watched the two from afar, a glare on his face. His date was dancing with that stuck-up bloke. Who would fall for the charms of the nastiest man in the bar? He thought Hermione was better than that. Apparently not. Ronald stood up, grabbed his coat, took a few hundred pounds from Hermione's jacket pocket, and left.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked, falling into the chair she had occupied hours ago.

"Seven," Draco responded. "In the morning."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed, "We've been up dancing all night! I have to go home!"

Draco nodded, "Yeah, me too," he lit up a ciggarette and held her jacket up for her to wear. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Draco. For saving me," she started to walk out.

"Hermione?" Draco took a large step to catch up to her. He opened the door and she slipped out. Outside the bar, the sun was shining brightly, making the light coating of snow blind the two. Hermione frowned, placing her hand above her eyes.

"Yeah, Draco?" Hermione turned to face him, and he looked down on her.

"Thank you, for saving me," he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, turned around, and walked away. Hermione watched him walk away, her eyes going from the back of his head, to his arse, and back up. She bit her lip and raised her fingers to her lips.

With a little dance in her step, she turned and walked in the opposite direction, a small smirk on her lips.

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_This story is part of 30 stories, in which I put my iPod on shuffle, and write a story each day for the song. Now, the problem for this, is that today I accidentally broke my iPod by dropping it into a big sink of water, and is currently not turning on. So I might just make a playlist of the songs on my iPod on my iTunes and use that, for this story's sake. But until then, I hope and pray that rice will get the water outta my iPod? LOL  
But to find all of the other rules to this fic, go to HPFC forum, and go to the iPod challenge. You'll see what I'm doing._

For now, ta.


End file.
